Fight

The marriage proposal 
like a forced march
through Fort Jackson, a backpack
Full of chert beating on his spine.

He stood his ground with her.
His actions spoke volumes.
Good soldiers die with assurance.
No romance in war.

Refreshingly quiet, 
The dutiful tour.
She paced herself sleepy.
She could rest in peace.

Honor the hero.
(He'd saved her once.)
Uniform with purpose.
Fight the good fight.

The battle impressed.
Things escalated.
Orders got shouted.
Ammunition, manufactured.

Grenades for detonating.
Entire minefields laid.
(Dangerous territory:
Don't play the field.)

Tanks roll in now.
She runs for cover.
Still he stands strong.
Warriors don't yield.

Until there is torture.
Torture's illegal.
But you know what gets said
About love, and real war.

They'd die for each other
But living, so different.
They live with surrender:
Embattlement, love.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Shango Avatar
March 14, 2009 at 4:10 PM
Listen, lady - blow the horn. Powerful images, wonderfully sustained, this tragic song is sweet as forever.
Goff Avatar
March 14, 2009 at 2:01 PM
how much do we under value noble men & women.....nice write, Irene! Jim
Lokken Avatar
March 10, 2009 at 4:02 PM
This is a beautiful, yet very sad testament...the last stanza is powerful. "He saved her once"....so touching. Regards, Sara
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